


It Doesn't Matter If It's Raining

by daringlybelieving



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Prompt Fic, Rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-02
Updated: 2012-06-02
Packaged: 2017-11-06 14:54:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/420131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daringlybelieving/pseuds/daringlybelieving
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two more days until he doesn't have to listen to the rain alone</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Doesn't Matter If It's Raining

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magequisition](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magequisition/gifts).



> My first Stargate fic, written for Lisa who prompted Sam/Jack: cuddling.

To say it was raining outside would have been an understatement. As Jack peered out of his cabin windows he was sure that any moment the little wooden house would just float away with him inside it. He flipped the blinds closed and stalked over to his comfiest chair, certain that at the rate the rain was coming down, the roads leading to the cabin would be flooded and impassable by the time Carter, Daniel and Teal’c were meant to join him.

Two more days alone, with nothing but the sound of the rain pounding on the roof and the soft rumble of thunder in the distance to keep him company. Maybe it was time to rethink getting a dog.

He shivered slightly in his seat and glanced at the fireplace, momentarily pleased to see that there was still a decent amount of firewood piled up beside it. His knees groaned and cracked in protest as he stood and moved towards the fireplace, years of combat and injuries finally taking their toll. Just as his hand touched the first piece of wood on the pile, a sharp knock reverberated through the cabin.

Jack paused mid-movement, allowing his military training to take over, his senses automatically sharpening and taking in every detail around him. When the knock sounded again he released the breath he hadn’t even realised he had been holding and dropped the piece of wood. He wiped his hands on the back of his jeans as he stalked warily to the door and opened it with a flourish.

“It’s about time, sir, it’s freezing out here!” Sam smirked at him, and what he was presuming was the mixture of shock and confusion that was covering his face. 

He kicked the door closed behind her and stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “You’re lucky I like you, Colonel, otherwise _that_ could be considered verging on insubordination.” He replied, swaying lightly backwards and forwards on his heels.

“Yes sir,” Sam grinned at him and peeled her soaked jacket off her shoulders. Jack frowned at the puddle that was beginning to form at the feet of his former second in command.

“You’re soaking wet!” Sam glanced down at herself and nodded. “Wait there.” He disappeared from the room and came back moments later carrying a pair of her pyjamas and a blanket. She took the pyjamas from him with a thankful smile and headed to the bathroom to discard her wet clothes and change. While she was gone, Jack went back to lighting the fire. It caught easily enough and soon the main room of the cabin was filled with the flickering warm light of the flames.

He was just unfolding the blanket when Sam returned clad in her thick pyjamas, her long hair tousled and unruly from being towel dried. He smiled boyishly at her and gave the blanket one last shake before settling into his comfy chair, draping the blanket over himself.

He flicked one side of the blanket away, “C’mere,” he motioned to Sam and smiled again when she complied, positioning herself in his lap, her head against his shoulder with her face turned into his neck. He wrapped the blanket around her tightly and wrapped one arm around her waist, the other rubbing her arms when she shivered from the cold.

“I’m glad you’re here.” He told her honestly, laying a light kiss against her temple and feeling her press her warm lips against his pulse point in return.

“Me too,” she mumbled into his neck before laughing lightly.

“What?” he asked her.

He felt her leave another kiss on his neck before she answered, “This blanket has Homer Simpson on doesn’t it.” A statement, not a question. She laughed again, and this time he joined her, holding her that little bit tighter than before.


End file.
